Harry Potter and the Passion of the Poltergeist
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: Harry and Co. have to deal with a situation that has arisen at Hogwarts. Peeves/Myrtle. Rated for language and stuff. Written for the Teachers' Lounge Crackfest Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Passion of the Poltergeist**

Harry opened his eyes and grasped his wand. Over the past two weeks since the battle at the Ministry, he'd been hyper vigilant. He'd been wondering vaguely if he should join the Dursleys for dinner, when the streetlamp just outside of the house had gone out. He crept to his window to take a look outside. Heart leaping, he rushed downstairs to admit the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He still wasn't over all of his anger towards Dumbledore, but at this moment, he was glad for the wizard's presence. Anything to get away from this house.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling.

"What the blazes is going on down there?" Uncle Vernon yelled, rushing out in his fluffy white bathrobe.

"Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said jovially, stepping over the threshold. "Do allow me to reintroduce myself. Albus Dumbledore, at your service."

There was a squeak from behind Vernon, and they all looked up the stairs to see Aunt Petunia standing there, looking quite faint.

"Evening," Dumbledore said with a small bow. "I have come to collect Harry. He will not be returning this summer."

"Good," Vernon snapped. "All he does is lay about the house and mope about his godfather."

Harry's heart sank into his stomach, and he saw Vernon quail under Dumbledore's stair.

"I will wait here, Harry, while you pack your things. I trust it will not take long," he added with a shrewd look.

"Tonks," Harry muttered under his breath as he climbed the stairs. She'd been popping by every few days to more or less force feed him, and had probably relayed the message that Harry had barely moved from bed, much less unpacked. It took him all of five minutes to collect his things and make it back to the entranceway.

Dumbledore stood there, whistling merrily as the Dursley's glowered at him. "All set, Harry?"

"Yes, Professor. Are we going to—"

"Not here. Security reasons, and all that—which is why I couldn't write. Now, if you'll follow me. A pleasant evening to you all."

Harry followed him out into the warm night air. "Sir… I can't help but notice that this was a very…er…quick stay at the Dursley's."

"Yes, well… a situation has arisen at Hogwarts that I'd be quite grateful for your help in solving. Plus there are…matters, that we must discuss."

"You mean Sirius's will," Harry said, trying to put as little emotion into his guess as possible.

"Indeed. And on top of both of those things, I'll admit that I feared for my safety if I made you wait any longer. The combined threats of both Miss Tonks and Miss Granger did more to hasten your rescue from Privet Drive than anything."

Harry laughed at this, stuffing his fist into his mouth when the noise rang out along the quiet street. He sniggered, then sobered, realizing that this was the first time he'd had a true laugh in a long while.

"Just here will do. If you'll take my arm"

Harry did so, and a second later felt the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a long, narrow tube. He stumbled when he felt his feet touch the cobbles just outside the Three Broomsticks pub.

"Here we are!" Dumbledore said, catching Harry by the arm. "How did you like your first experience with Apparation?"

"I'll…stick to my broom, thanks," Harry wheezed.

Dumbledore smiled sympathetically and ushered him inside. "I'm afraid that this cannot wait."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of dread come over him. He didn't want to read Sirius's will—didn't want to think about the reality of his godfather being gone. But he squared his shoulders and followed Dumbledore to a table near the back of the pub. He barely paid attention as introductions were made all around, and stared pointedly at the Minister's nose as he read the scroll of paper.

"Lastly," Scrimgeour said. "In addition to my estate, I hereby name Harry heir to the Black line, and wish that he be legally emancipated."

At this, Harry snapped back to attention. "Wha—what does that mean?"

"It means," Scrimgeour explained patiently, "that the Trace can legally be taken off of you. You will be free to use magic outside of Hogwarts after tonight. It also means that any and all magical bindings will be stripped from you, so your magic can operate at full power. You will be a legal adult in the magical world, so you will inherit the titles left to you by your parents, and now the late Sirius Black."

Harry stared open mouthed between the Minister and Dumbledore. "I…what?"

"Just sign here, Mr. Potter."

Harry read through the papers a bit, just to make sure he wasn't signing himself over to be Voldemort's love slave or anything. The paper glowed bright blue for a moment once it was signed, and Harry suddenly felt woozy.

"Not to worry, Lord Baron Potter-Black," the Minister said. "That's just your magic finally having room to breathe. Your parents bound it when you were small—you see it in a lot of families."

Harry sneezed, and the nearest chair caught fire. "Lord, huh? The chair!"

"Er…yes, that can sometimes happen. I shall have Gringotts send you a summary of your titles and estates first thing in the morning. A good evening to you."

Harry shook the man's hand weakly, hiccupping and causing him to turn purple. "Sorry."

"I've seen worse, believe me."

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let's get you up to the castle. I'm sure your friends are dying to see you. And then I can apprise you of the unique occurrence that has taken place."

With a nod and another sneeze (that turned a table into a small kangaroo), Harry followed his headmaster out of the pub.

* * *

The next day, Harry woke to a ruckus on the stairs. Before he could locate his glasses, the door was flung open, and his two best friends had rushed inside. He tried to burrow back under the blankets, but Ron tugged him out.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, thrusting Harry's glasses into his hand. "We've had to deal with this mess on our own for two days now. You're getting up."

"What's up?" Harry asked, though a yawn.

"Peeves," both of them said.

"Huh?"

"You'll see, Lord Baron Must Fix Everything Around Here," Hermione said, rolling her eyes."Personally, I think Dumbledore probably could've sorted all this out by now, but I really think he likes to watch you do stuff for him."

"Do I even want to know?" Harry asked. "And enough with the Lord Baron stuff."

"Yes, my lord," Ron said, grinning.

Harry slugged him and pulled on a sweater and some jeans.

Hermione didn't bother to look away, but continued to grumble about their headmaster's many deficiencies.

"What's happened to her?" Harry whispered to Ron as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

Ron grinned. "Tonks was staying with us this summer. Extra protection, and all that. She may have had a bit of a bad influence on her and Ginny. And when I say 'bad', I mean 'fantastic'. It's like watching fireworks sometimes."

Harry smiled, but felt a small pang of jealousy knowing that Ron and Ginny had gotten to hang out with Tonks all summer. As they walked, he began to notice something odd about the walls of the castle. "Er…guys?"

"Ah, he's finally noticed," Ron said.

"We'll explain everything over breakfast," Hermione said. "It's the worst in the Great Hall anyway."

It was. The walls seemed to be oozing some sort of blue-purple sludge. Tonks, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and the rest of the Weasleys were sitting at the table, where a light breakfast had been set out.

"Oh gross!" Harry said, poking some of the stuff with his wand. "I don't want to know!" He shook his head. "If it's Peeves, it can't be good."

"Tough luck, Lord Baron Chickenshit," Ginny said, patting the seat between herself and Tonks.

"What is that stuff?"

At this, everyone blushed. Including the twins, which meant this was going to be more awkward than a hippogryff's yearly checkup.

"It came about during your…er…absence at the end of the school year," Dumbledore began as the trio sat and served themselves. "The students, keen on continuing your rather effective revolution, took it upon themselves to come up with some ingenious methods of disruption. One enterprising young second year got hold of Misters Fred and George Weasley's love potions, and decided to play cupid. Besides an upswing in general PDA, the boy…um…missed one of his intended targets and hit—"

"Peeves," Harry groaned. "I didn't think human potions or charms worked on a poltergeist."

"I didn't either. And so far we've been unable to reverse the damage."

"Okay, so that doesn't explain the new décor."

"Well, you see…the potion has Peeves turned into a teenage boy, if you'll excuse the commonly used verbage."

Tonks, Ginny and Hermione sniggered.

"So…wait! You mean that's—"

"Poltergeist sperm. Since Peeves is, in a metaphorical sense, part of the castle, it's er…showing up."

Harry retched, and began scrubbing his wand furiously. It shot off, turning the pitcher of pumpkin juice into a large parrot.

"And that brings me to my next point," Dumbledore began.

"He's hoping leveled up, Super Potter will be able to handle it," Tonks said, spearing another pancake.

"I hoped for _everyone's _help in this matter."

"What, can I just snap my fingers and…."

Harry snapped his fingers. A second later it was very wet, and hard to breathe. And there were mermaids. He snapped again, and was engulfed in cold and snow. He snapped again.

Ten minutes later, he and the rest of the group were back in the Great Hall, and he was dodging bits of toast being thrown at him.

"You prat, Harry!"

"Potter, what the hell?"

"Was that Reykjavik?"

"Before or after Las Vegas?"

"In any case!" Dumbledore said, ringing out his pointy hat. "Yes. We need to get to the bottom of this so that we can turn our attention to more important matters this year."

"I'm off to the library!" Hermione said. "Come on, Ginny, Ron."

"In the meantime, Harry, you'll be doing wand work training with Tonks."

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice.

Molly glared at her, but Tonks just winked.

"He should be so lucky. Let's go, Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter and the Passion of the Poltergeist**

Since Tonks's idea of magic control training consisted of "Let's see how many things we can set on fire!" Harry came down to lunch tired and slightly singed. He sank into his seat with a groan, and began scooping copious amounts of cottage pie onto his plate.

"Where's Hermione?"

"Still in the library," Ron said through a mouthful of carrot.

"Apparently Madam Pince is on holiday at a nudist beach somewhere in Greece, so we had unsupervised access. She went a little crazy," Ginny said.

"At least we know we'll have an answer before the day is out," Harry said with a shrug. "Who's Peeves lusting after, anyway?"

"Myrtle," the rest of the table deadpanned.

"What? ARGH!" Harry yelled as pain shot across his scar.

_It seems my return is not troubling Dumbledore and his pets. They're occupied with some trivial matter concerning a ghost._

"You'd be occupied too, if you were swimming in poltergeist jizz!" Harry shouted at Voldemort.

_Potter! ...you can hear me?_

"I feel like we have this conversation every few months."

_Blast!_

"Good luck with whatever nefarious plots you've got going. Hope you can get them done in Reykjavik." He snapped his fingers and smiled at Voldemort's scream of rage as the Dark Lord was transported to Iceland.

"Wow, Harry! You got rid of him—literally and in the mental sense," Ginny said. "Tonks must be one hell of a teacher."

"Me? Hell no. Harry had his powers down within five minutes. The rest of the time we were just playing silly buggers with Snape's Pillow Pet collection," Tonks said.

"Could you see what he was planning, Harry?" Ginny asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head. "And frankly, I'm not worried. He has a shin-kicking coming to him the next time I see him anyway."

At that moment, Hermione came marching into the Great Hall with a book the size of about eight encyclopedias floating behind her. "Found the answer!"

"Epic!" Ron yelped, swiping a third helping of potatoes. "Let's get on cleanup."

"It's not that simple," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It's Old Magic."

"I actually heard the capital letters when you said that," Harry said. "Right. Hand the book over—and I hope you used bookmarks."

"What this?" Hermione asked, pointing to the floating tome. "Oh no, I brought that with me for some extra reading into the magical history of Iceland. The Peeves situation is in here." She dropped a significantly smaller book onto the table.

"Poltergeist Solutions for Dummies?" Ginny read.

"Harry, I'll need the list of your titles."

"Er, sure," he said, pulling them out of his back pocket. "Why?"

"It's a ritual that can only be done by certain magical lines. Okay, let's see—Lord and Baron—"

But before she could continue, there was a loud wailing noise, and Myrtle (who was, in fact, laughing) floated into the hall followed by a singing Peeves.

_Oh my dear Myrtle_

_I want a peek under your girdle._

_My sad-faced one and only,_

_Please don't leave me lonely._

_It would be my pleasure,_

_To seek your hidden treasure._

"Ew," Ginny groaned.

_So before you slip back into your depression_

_Maybe we can indulge in some ghostly fornication._

"Merlin's shorts…."

"That doesn't even rhyme!"

_I'd be yours forevermore_

_If you'd unsheathe my Sword of Gryffindor._

_And perhaps I could Slytherin_

_To your Chamber of Secrets then._

_And using my Ravenclaw-like wits,_

_I'll nuzzle into those—_

"NO!" Tonks yelled, covering her ears as everyone turned white.

_And I'll work hard like Hufflepuff_

_To—_

"Jesus H. Christ, Hermione! Please tell me what I have to do to stop this!" Harry yelled over the singing, not at all interested with what rhymed with Hufflepuff.

"Well, you're a Peverell descendant, so that takes care of the Lord of the Old Magic requirement. We just need a Count of the Magic Circles, and a descendant of Merlin."

"Where are we going to find them?" Ron asked, grabbing a block of cherry ice cream.

"Merlin bit's easy," Tonks said. "Dude was like Genghis Khan, but with magic. Nearly anyone from a pureblood, or even mostly pureblood line is a descendant. Hell, I'd volunteer, but I don't know what this gig entails. Plus, if it's one of those 'virgin sacrifices' rituals, I'd be bloody useless."

"I already talked to Dumbledore," Hermione said with a shrug. "He said that Ron or Ginny would work, and that Neville will be here later. He's a Count Whosiwhatsit, apparently. And he told us to hurry up with it—he wants this dealt with before the Ministry gets wind of it. They'll think he's 'camping it up' again."

"What does that even mean?" Ron asked.

"He muttered something about the Prefects' bathroom having rainbow strobe lights and glitter in the seventies, but I couldn't get anything else out of him."

"So when Neville gets here, what do we have to do?"

"Well…." Hermione mumbled, opening the book. "It looks like we have to give Myrtle a solid form, so that the antidote can be administered to both of them at once. Fred and George said they're cooking some up now. They'll be here later."

"Wait, is this going to turn her into a poltergeist?" Ginny asked. "Because I think I speak for everyone when I say she's bad enough in ghost form."

"No…it just says it'll give her a solid form for the antidote to seep into."

"And…what goes into pulling that one off?"

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

"Positive. And may I say, you look scrumptious in a grass skirt."

"Just be glad Collin's not here," Neville said, applying his war paint.

"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done," Harry whined.

"Right, Lord Baron Whineypants," Hermione said. "Get over here. You're first to add your newt hearts."

They began to chant in Latin as Harry, Neville and Ron took turns tossing ingredients into the bathtub sized cauldron and doing whatever motions Hermione instructed. Meanwhile, Tonks and Ginny kept an eye on Peeves and Myrtle, who had been told that this was an ancient poltergeist-ghost bonding ceremony.

"And last, the rose petals," Hermione said. "Three steps left—LEFT, Ron—and wave your right hand in a circle."

"Now everybody twerk!" Tonks said with a laugh when they were done.

Neville did, in fact, pop his booty up and down a few times before blushing and realizing she was joking. "What? Gran put me in Muggle dance lessons when I was a kid."

There was a fizzling sound, and Myrtle became solid and Technicolor. Before anyone could do anything, however, she pounced on Peeves and they disappeared with a pop.

"Shit!"

"What do we do?"

"We've got to find them! Can you imagine what a kid between those two would look like?"

They raced out of the dungeon, splitting up when they hit the staircase.

"Forget this," Harry said, skidding to a stop. His grass skirt swished around him. "_Accio_, Map!"

The others stopped and scrambled back to him as he searched for Peeves and Myrtle.

"They're in the Great Hall! Oh…dear…."

"Are they fucking on Dumbledore's pimp throne?" Neville asked.

"Arrows at the ready? Let's do this!"

They began racing down the stairs. Harry stumbled as pain flashed across his scar.

_Hiss hisssh hasssshisss_

"Dude! GTFO! I know Parseltongue, but I'm kind of occupied at the moment. Speak English if you're going to screw with my mind!"

_Hiss shissssshiissssss!_

"English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?"

_Hiss hissss hsahdhssssssisssss!_

"SAY HISS AGAIN! I DARE YOU!"

"Harry! Hurry!"

"Right, Mr. Thinks He's the Most Powerful Wizard Ever," Harry griped at Voldemort. "Maybe make yourself useful and get rid of the lovely addition to the castle that our poltergeist bestowed. Otherwise, stay out of my head!" He stumbled along and the group burst into the Great Hall just in time to answer a whole lot of questions about the ghostly birds and supernatural bees.

"I can't even…" Ginny mumbled.

"Shoot them!" Harry yelled.

Ron, Neville, Ginny and Tonks all drew their bows and let the antidote-laced arrows fly. Ron's, surprisingly, hit Peeves square in the forehead. Tonks missed, and shrugged it off, lighting a cigar. Ginny managed to nail Myrtle in the leg, and Neville's shot straight through the pair to thunk into Dumbledore's chair.

"My bad," he said.

Slowly, Myrtle reverted back to her normal ghost self, and Peeves gained a look of utter revulsion.

"That was close," Hermione said.

"I bet she was," Tonks muttered with a chuckle.

"Tonks!" Everyone yelled, grimacing.

"Pretty sure ghosts can't have babies, but I'm glad we don't have to find out," an amused voice said behind them.

They turned to find Dumbledore grinning at them.

Harry glared. "As of right now, Lord Baron Continually Saving Your Ass is charging for his services."

**_Fin_**

**_LbN: Written for TellatrixForever and Weregrrl. Hope you liked it!_**


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